


Give 'Em Hell, Kid

by Rionaa



Series: We'll Have To Make It On Our Own [6]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, I'm a british student, M/M, Unfinished, WIP, all i know is from fanfics and movies, high school stereyotypes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 18:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18922285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionaa/pseuds/Rionaa
Summary: Frerard high school AU, unfinished.





	Give 'Em Hell, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I will probably never finish, as sadly my fandom interests have moved elsewhere for the most part. However, if anyone would like to continue this work, or use it as a base for their own story, please feel free to do so, just make sure to link it to this one! (i.e. inspired by X etc)

Frank woke up to the sound of the fire alarm going off downstairs. He groaned and pulled the pillow up over his face when he saw what time it was.

The beeping from downstairs stopped and he knew his mother had either extinguished her cigarette or disabled the smoke alarm.

With a sigh, Frank rolled out of bed and began to get dressed. There wasn't much point in trying to get back to sleep.

He pulled on skinny jeans and a Misfits T-shirt that was so faded he could hardly make out the logo anymore, before running a brush through his hair and heading out of his room.

"Morning Mom." He said as he passed her on the grubby couch. She grunted as he passed but didn't move. He sighed and walked past her to the kitchen.

Opening the fridge he found it empty but for half a manky cucumber and a couple of cloves of garlic.

"We're out of milk, Mom!" He called. He got no response. Feeling exasperated he opened the cupboards, finally finding a stale crust of bread which he ate with a glass of water to wash away the slight mouldy taste.

Glancing at the clock he saw he still had twenty minutes before he had to leave. He got to his feet slowly and went to grab his bag.

"I'm gonna go to the shop after school, is there any money?" His Mom nodded slowly and he went to her room and searched until he found the tin where the money was kept. In it were two dollar bills and a few cents. Frank stared at it in horror before shoving it in his pocket and turning away.

"Have you even been to work all week?" He asked, perhaps a little more roughly than he had intended.

His Mom turned her face towards him. Finally she spoke. "I lost my job darling."

"You lost your job? Why didn't you tell me? Why haven't you tried to find a new one? Why did you lose it in the first place? Have you spent all the money on cigarettes?" Frank couldn't keep the questions in. His Mom looked upset. He stared at her in disbelief before practically shouting at her. "We have two dollars and seventy two cents. That is all of the money! How much have you been spending on cigarettes?" When she didn't reply he turned away with a groan. "I'm going to school, and when I get back you had better have-" he couldn't even think of what she needed to do, "to have done something! Anything! Please..." His voice broke on the last word. She turned her face away and he walked to the door, his head low.

Frank walked to school exceptionally slowly. For one thing he knew that he had plenty of time to get there, for another he really wasn't looking forward to arriving. He knew his best friend Pete would be there but so would a lot of people he really didn't want to face.

No matter how slowly he walked, Frank found himself in front of the school gates much sooner than he would have liked. He braced himself and joined the stream of students entering the grounds. He quickly withdrew to a shaded corner where he could blend in with the shadows and wait for Pete.

Pete arrived just as the bell rang. He and Frank headed off to English together in silence. Part of Frank wanted to tell his best friend about how his mother had lost her job and all she did all day was sit and smoke and how all the money they had in the world was in his jeans pocket and how much he was struggling. The rest of him wanted to remain in silence for the rest of his life.

After English, Pete had math and Frank had PE. Frank hated PE. He hated how his body looked and he hated that other people had to see it. Especially other guys.

Nobody knew that Frank was gay. He couldn't tell people, he was easily one of the smallest people in the school and if any of the jocks found out his usual beatings would become more frequent and harder to bear.

Frank changed into his PE kit as quickly as possible and hurried out of the changing room before he became a target as happened so often.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully until lunchtime.

Frank visited his locker before going to the cafeteria. That was a big mistake.

"Hey, freak!" His shoulders slumped as he turned to face the owner of the voice. Cedric Foreman, who played quarterback on the school's football team and stood at least a foot taller than Frank, was standing right behind him.

"What do you want?" Frank asked tiredly.

"Less of this attitude!" Cedric crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. Frank wished Pete were here, but then again Pete had his own problems and he was so small that even the two of them put together probably weighed less than Cedric.

"Look, Cedric, I'm not looking for a fight, please just leave me alone."

"Well maybe its not about what you want, maybe it's about what I want." Cedric held out a palm. "And right now, I want your cash. Go on, give it to me!"

Frank's eyes widened in fear. "No, please don't..."

Cedric's face darkened. "Give it to me."

"Please, I don't have any..." Frank's hand automatically went to cover the pocket in which he had put all of the money he and his mother had. He realised a split second too late what he had done.

Cedric's eyes narrowed. "Lying to me now are we?" He balled his fist and raised it, then looked around as though just realising he was in a crowded corridor surrounded by people. "Meet me out behind the kitchens after school." He hissed. Frank nodded and blinked to try to vanish the tears that had started in his eyes that signaled the start of a panic attack.

Frank didn't go to the cafeteria despite the hunger that had been growing all morning. Instead he made his way to the large beech tree in the middle of the patch of scrawny grass the school called a yard before sitting down and trying not to cry. He was a junior for god's sake.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes hard when he heard someone sit beside him.

"Frank? What's wrong?" It was Pete.

"Just... Just everything..." Frank muttered.

"What do you mean? What's happened?"

Frank told Pete everything.

When he had finished, Pete stared at him open mouthed. "What and you're just gonna let him take all your money?"

"Its not exactly like I have a choice is it?" Frank replied bitterly.

"Of course it is!"

"How? What can I do? I can't stand up to him, he's like three times my size!"

"Tell someone..."

"Like who? If I tell the school he'll just find somewhere else and besides they won't do anything about it, he's one of the best players on the football team!"

Pete was silent for a moment. Finally he burst out "but that's all your money! You can't just... You could tell him that!"

"Yeah like he'd believe me, or even care!" scoffed Frank.

"Okay... Okay well..." Pete seemed to be trying to think of the right thing to say.

"Look, Pete, I appreciate you're trying to help but there isn't anything you can do."

"I can lend you money! Please, I can help..."

Frank shook his head aggressively. "No. I don't want charity." He got to his feet.

"Frank..."

"No." He walked away, leaving Pete sitting alone.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Frank went through his lessons hardly noticing what subject he was meant to be paying attention to.

At last the final bell rang. Frank got to his feet shakily and took as long as he dared to put away his books.

He made his way to where Cedric had told him to be and found that the older boy hadn't yet arrived. Frank considered simply leaving and pretending he'd forgotten, but he knew it would be worse for him if he did.

Before he got the chance however, Cedric appeared with two other members of the football team Frank was pretty sure were called James Carson and Mikey Way. James was almost as broad across the shoulders as Cedric and his hard jawline seemed to show that he was eager for a fight. Mikey however looked a little wary and not at all sure he wanted to be there.

Frank swallowed and backed into the wall.

"What do you want?" His voice came out embarrassingly high pitched.

"What I want is for you to stop being such a pussy." Growled Cedric.

"I'm not a pussy!" Frank attempted to pull his face into a harder expression.

"Good start!" Cedric feigned being impressed before forming a scowl. "I still want your money though."

Frank couldn't hide his terror. "Please, it's all I have!"

Cedric snorted. "Liar. Hand it over."

"No!"

"I'm gonna give you one more chance." Cedric moved closer and James moved at his side, blocking off Frank's chance of escape. Frank looked around desperately for another option. "Please-"

Both boys jumped forward before he had time to finish his sentence. Frank got a fleeting glimpse of the other boy Mikey's startled face before he was doubled over in pain as Cedric laid a punch to his stomach.

After the first few punches and kicks to his stomach and face Frank's consciousness faded a little.

He was vaguely aware of the pain and movement, his own cries and the laughter of his attackers.

Then a new sound hit his ears.

"Stop!" Mikey Way was yelling, his voice hysterical. The kicking stopped as James and Cedric turned.

Frank pushed himself upright and spat a mouthful of blood onto the tarmac.

"Fuck off Mikey, you don’t have to be here." Sneered James.

"No, well neither do you, please stop, I'll call someone, I'll tell someone, I'll-"

"Yeah sure you will, and incriminate yourself as well!"

Mikey looked scared for a moment, then looked at Frank. He seemed to be steeling himself for something. Frank watched him from under his hair, trying not to draw more attention to himself.

Suddenly there was a flurry of action. Mikey made as though to turn away, then sprang back towards James and Cedric.

James doubled over as Mikey planted a fist in his stomach. Cedric, a little sharper, noticed the action and tried to back away.

Mikey glared at him. Cedric seemed to have been taken by surprise and turned tail and ran.

Mikey knelt beside Frank. "Are you alright?"

Frank pushed the hair out of his eyes to reveal a split lip and what Mikey could see would soon be a blossoming black eye. "Never better." He muttered.

"Can you get back to your house from here? Do you need a hospital?" Mikey sounded anxious.

Frank hesitated. It would probably take him about an hour to get back to his house today, he was fairly sure his left ankle was sprained and his ribs felt on fire. Eventually he shook his head.

"Do you want to go to my house? My brother can probably patch you up and take you home."

"Are you sure?" Frank felt pathetic for needing the help of a stranger, especially someone on the football team, but he didn't have any other options.

Mikey nodded. "Thank you..." Whispered Frank.

"Can you walk?"

Frank got to his feet and leaned on the wall, testing his ankle. "I think so." He took a step forward and gasped as pain shot up his leg.

"That's a no, then," Muttered Mikey, "it's not far to my house. Come on, lean on me."

Thoroughly hating himself, Frank wrapped his arm round the taller boy's waist and trying to take as much weight as possible off his ankle, began to walk, following Mikey's lead.

After about five minutes, Mikey stopped in front of a white painted door. He pushed it open and helped Frank inside.

"Gerard!" He yelled at the ceiling. Frank heard music pause, a door open and close, then footsteps.

A black haired face appeared at the top of the stairs. "What is it Mikes?"

Mikey looked down at Frank for answer. The face formed an "o" shape and disappeared.

"We'll be in the kitchen!" Called Mikey. Then he turned to Frank, who had been watching the floor, feeling more and more pathetic. "It's through here."

Mikey helped Frank to a high stool as his brother entered the room carrying a first aid kit.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Some of the jocks from the football team..." Frank said, glancing helplessly at Mikey.

Gerard followed his gaze and looked at his brother sharply. "Mikey, did you-"

"No! No, he didn't." Frank said firmly.

"Right..." Gerard looked back at Frank. "Sorry, I don't think I know your name..."

"I'm Frank."

"Okay, um... Can I have a look at your face?" Frank nodded. Gerard moved forward and pushed Frank's hair back off his face. His hands were surprisingly soft and gentle.

"Okay, I need to clean this." He gestured to the graze on Frank's cheek. Frank nodded again. Gerard turned away to dampen a cotton swab with disinfectant. "This will sting, I'm sorry." Frank winced as Gerard dabbed at his face with the cotton wool.

Once he was satisfied he straightened up. "Can I ask you to take your shirt off?" He asked.

"Don’t you think it's a little early in our relationship to be asking me to strip?" Asked Frank, drily. Instantly he regretted saying it. He looked up to see if Mikey and Gerard were offended. Gerard however, simply snorted looked at his brother in amusement.

"I need to check for bruising. If there's internal bleeding or broken ribs you may need to hospital."

"No! I mean, I'm not going to hospital." If he went to hospital questions would be asked.

"Okay... I'd still like to check you out-" Gerard blushed bright red. "I mean, I need to see if... I mean..."

Frank smiled. "It's not a problem." Gingerly he pulled his T-shirt over his head.

Gerard let out a small gasp. "Frank, you should go to the hospital..."

"No."

"Yeah Frank, that could be serious." Mikey added, looking worried.

"No. I'm not going to the hospital."

"Okay..." Gerard crossed the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out a bag of ice cubes. "Are you in pain anywhere else?"

Frank shook his head but Mikey said shortly "His ankle."

Gerard knelt down in front of Frank and untied his shoelace. Frank let out a small squeak of pain as his shoe came off.

"This could be broken, please, you should go to a hospital, Frank."

"No, it doesn't hurt too bad, honestly." Frank was lying through his teeth.

"Okay well I can't force you but if it's broken you could cause yourself serious damage."

Frank nodded. "I'm not going to hospital, please stop trying to persuade me."

"Okay. Okay, so... You'll need to ice your ankle and like, don’t walk on it if you can... Take paracetamol or something..."

Frank nodded. "Thank you. Both of you." Gerard glanced at Mikey who looked away, seemingly ashamed.

"Can you get home from here?"

"I don’t know exactly where here is..."

"Well give me your address and I'll drive you." Gerard offered.

Frank looked up. "No, I can get there by myself."

"No, I won't make you go to the hospital but I'm not letting you walk home."

Frank was only half ready to protest. He gave Gerard his address.

Gerard ran to get his keys then helped Frank into a car.

"Why didn't you want to go to a hospital?" He asked as he started the engine.

Frank looked away. "I just don't, okay?"

"Okay! I just hope there's a good reason, that's all."

"Oh, there is." Frank laughed bitterly. He remembered that Cedric had taken his money and knew that there would be nothing to eat when he got home. He doubted that there would be any painkillers either.

"Okay." Gerard drove in silence until Frank spoke up.

"It's just here. Thank you for... Everything..."

"It's not a problem." Gerard grabbed a grubby looking receipt from the glove compartment and a pen and scribbled something down. "That's my number," he smiled sheepishly, "Give me a call if you need anything, seriously anything, I've got nothing else to do with my time, being an art student."

Frank nodded and took the receipt. "Thank you." He knew he wouldn't use it. He had no mobile phone and the landline hadn't been paid in months.

Frank limped to the door of the apartment block. He turned to see Gerard watching him with a worried expression.

Frank somehow made it up the four flights of stairs to his apartment.

When he opened the front door he was unsurprised to find his mom passed out on the sofa exactly where she had been when he had left.

He made his way to the bathroom and rifled through the medicine cabinet. He found a single unopened paracetamol and swallowed it dry.

He went to the freezer to try to find some ice for his ankle but found that it had been turned off. He switched it back on then limped to his bedroom.

He lay down on his bed without removing his clothes, but sleep didn't come.

He lay awake for hours, unwilling to move, until at around 2:30 he finally drifted asleep.

***  
Gerard sat outside Frank's apartment block for a while. He watched as the black haired boy limped up to the front door and let himself in.

Even after he had closed the door, Gerard waited outside. He wasn't sure why, if something happened to Frank he wouldn't know from out here.

Eventually he restarted the engine, turned the car around and drove home.

When he got there he found Mikey sitting on the couch looking upset.

"Hey, Mikey, what's up?" Gerard asked, sitting beside his brother.

Mikey turned his face towards him. "I was part of it. I went with them, I think they might have killed him..."

"Its a good thing you did go with them, then." Gerard said firmly. "If you hadn't been there..."

"I agreed to though, I thought it was a laugh."

"It's not your fault, you helped Frank, you didn't hurt him, did you?"

"No... No I didn't."

"There we go then." Gerard stood up.

"I... Will he be okay?"

Gerard bit his lip. "I really hope so. You did the right thing to bring him here, he was obviously very against going to hospital and I did the best I could, just make sure you keep an eye out for him at school tomorrow yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll do that."

"Thanks." Gerard turned to go to his room.

When he closed the door behind him he sat in the floor and leaned his back against the door. Instantly his head was filled with images of Frank. He had tried not to show it but the younger boy had really caught his eye.

His beautiful face, the way his hair fell into his eyes, his muscular but not overly toned chest.

No.

He mustn't think like that, he hardly knew the guy, he was likely never going to see him again.

Gerard got to his feet and switched on his CD player. He smiled when he heard the Misfits playing through his speakers. Frank had been wearing a Misfits T-shirt.

He hoped Frank was okay. Gerard knew what kind of area Frank lived in: it was where people had little money and fewer morals. Maybe Frank had parents or siblings who could look after him.

Gerard drifted off to sleep thinking of Frank. 

The next day Gerard woke up late. He went downstairs to find that Mikey had already left for school.

He started work on a project for college but found that he couldn't concentrate.

After mixing the wrong colour for the third time in a row he decided to give it up for a while.

Picking up his sketchpad he sat down at the kitchen table and began to draw.

After half an hour of mindless drawing he looked down at the page. He sighed and tore the page out.

It was a picture of Frank. His long fringe falling into his eyes, his face half hidden, but it was unmistakably Frank.

With a groan, Gerard stood up and wandered back into his bedroom. He had met the guy one time and would probably never even see him again.

Gerard spent the rest of the day reading on his bed with music on loud.

***  
Frank slept fitfully and woke early. For a moment he felt nothing, but when he sat up he almost cried out as his body reminded him forcefully of what it had undergone the previous day.

Frank carefully stretched his back, feeling his bruised ribs cry out as they were repositioned.

He looked down at himself and realised he was still in his clothes from yesterday. His jeans were relatively untouched but his shirt was torn and bloody. This would be fun.

Frank gingerly lifted the hem of his shirt and slowly began to peel it over his head. He suppressed a groan as his shoulders twisted to remove the garment, then dropped it onto the floor with a relieved sigh.

He stood up and limped over to his closet from which he took a plain black T-shirt. Perhaps it would help him look more inconspicuous.

Once he was dressed he made his way downstairs.

His mom wasn't on the couch, which either meant she had moved to her bed or gone out. He assumed the former.

Frank knew there was no food in the kitchen so he instead left the apartment immediately, heading down to the outer door before stopping.

It was good he had woken early, it would take him a long time to get to school today. His ankle was more painful that it had been the day before, which was worrying. He really hoped it wasn't broken.

He began limping down the road towards school.

Frank managed not to arrive late. He was impressed by this. He had thought it would take longer to make it there. There were still students milling by the gates as he leaned against the wall, panting, eyes closed.

"Frank?" He jumped as he opened his eyes, expecting to see Pete. Instead it was Mikey Way.

"Hi." He said blandly.

"How... How are you doing?" Mikey asked awkwardly.

"Peachy." Frank muttered.

Mikey snorted, then looked abashed. "Sure. Did you... Did you have any painkillers?"

"Not since last night." Frank admitted. He wasn't sure why he was telling Mikey this, except that if he told him yes, he might think Frank's injuries were more serious.

"Why not?"

"Ran out."

"Oh..." Mikey looked awkwardly at the floor.

Suddenly the was an angry shout and a tiny emo comet appeared.

"What the hell are you doing? Get away from him!" Mikey stepped back in surprise. Pete looked at Frank, emotions flitting across his face: anger, shock, horror, fear, then cold fury as he turned back to Mikey.

"What did you do to him?"

"I... I didn't..." Although he was much taller than Pete, Mikey was backing away from him, apparently terrified.

"Oh yeah? How'd he get all those bruises then? I've seen you, going round with your football friends, don’t you tell me you didn't..."

"Pete, stop!" Frank called out.

Pete turned. "What?"

"He didn't. Really, it wasn't him."

"It... What?" Pete seemed confused.

"He was there but he stopped it! He helped me, please leave him alone."

Pete stared at Frank, then looked up at Mikey who nodded, swallowing. "I..."

At that moment the bell rang and the crowd of students began to head towards the school. Frank pushed himself off the wall and joined them, determinedly not looking back at Pete and Mikey, and trying to keep the limp from his stride as much as possible.


End file.
